Thrall
by Anisky
Summary: Love is not always gentle and kind, and he will never rest until he owns her body, mind, and soul. J/S, of a sort. Evil Jareth
1. Chapter 1

Title: Thrall  
Author: Anisky  
Summary: Love is not always gentle and kind, and he will never rest until he owns her body, mind, and soul. J/S, of a sort. Evil Jareth  
Rating: R  
Disclaimer: None of it's mine!

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Chapter 1

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She escaped.

She had _escaped_.

He had never been so furious.

He had planned everything so perfectly! For years he had watched her from his form as an owl, looking after her, memorizing her, so that he would know what to say and do to lure her into the perfect trap.

He had given her the Labyrinth book, knowing that she would be enchanted by the story. He had tempted her mother away, seduced her with the glamour and mystique of Hollywood, when Sarah had been only a child. He had introduced Karen to her father, knowing that Sarah would hate her stepmother, and he needed to give only the slightest nudge to make sure they had a child.

From then on he'd known it was only a matter of time. He began watching her so much that even his goblins took notice. They formed a pool, betting when she would finally wish away Toby, and took to watching her as well, those who would stand to win urging her to make the wish and those who would lose hoping she would not.

He had been unsure whether or not she would take the crystal; on the one hand, she was endearingly selfish, but on the other it would be hard to resist the chance to run the Labyrinth. He had made sure, though his book and his whispers into her dreams at night, that she dreamt of him; the crystal would have trapped her in her dreams, forever, with him.

He had been secretly delighted when she chose to run his Labyrinth. The crystal would have been easy, but he relished the hunt, knew that the chase would make finally possessing her that much sweeter. Never for a moment did he consider that she might win.

They _never_ won. Why should she be any different? He usually ignored the runners, and still none had beaten his Labyrinth. Whereas she had his personal attention, he had watched and even interfered in order to ensure that she would not win. It was _unthinkable_.

It had happened.

At the end, he had been reduced to nearly begging her, something that galled him and left a bitter taste in his mouth. And _still_, after he implored her, after he showed her what he was offering, she had _still _refused.

The Goblin King had never before been hurt by someone—he had never let anyone close enough for it to be possible—and he so he had no frame of reference, no way to properly channel what he felt. Instead it all manifested itself as anger, as frustration, and as an already potent obsession increased tenfold.

Before, he had wanted her. Now he loved her and hated her. He would never give up; she had simply proved to be a more elusive prey, that was all.

He had been weakened when she spoke the words—those hateful words, the most abhorrent he could imagine coming from those lips. His castle had crumbled, his powers drained from him, and he was forced to slowly rebuild before he could continue his pursuit.

For a very long time, all he could do was watch her.

He could do little beyond that, and it infuriated him. He had enough strength to send her the occasional suggestion of a dream, to make sure that she did not forget him as she slept, but beyond that he was, infuriatingly, impotent. He could not, in this state, do anything in the mortal world if he were not called upon; as she said, he had no power over her.

Whenever he thought of that fact, his eyes would narrow, his fists and jaw would clench, and he would renew his determination to change that, change it completely, to take not only power but _complete_ power over her.

After a year and a day after her trip through the Labyrinth, a year and a day of watching her every move and letting his desire and obsession rankle and intensify from the pure unfulfilled need, he was finally returned to his full power.

He could finally go after her.

First, he vowed to himself, he would punish her for what she did to him; then, when she had properly atoned, he would tame her, and have her always. And then, finally, he would be able to rest, knowing she was safely under his power.

--

Though he wanted to make his Sarah pay, and loathed speaking softly and gently to her before she was properly punished, Jareth knew that the beginning of this hunt would require a gentle touch. He mustn't frighten her; he must make her forget that he was something of which she should be frightened.

After his year and a day were over, Jareth could finally stop watching.

--

Sarah smiled. "Good night, Toby," she murmured, as she kissed his forehead. She pulled the blanket up over him before turning and heading to the door. She turned and looked at him fondly once more before she turned off the lights and left.

She headed downstairs, with somewhat aimless intentions of getting a late snack or watching TV. She became slightly annoyed when she discovered that she couldn't find the remote control. Muttering under her breath, she searched the living room, crouching down to check under the coffee table.

Suddenly, reality _shifted_. There was no better way to describe it. One moment, everything felt the way it normally did; the next, there was a disturbance, a twisting in Sarah's gut that warned her of danger and beauty. She straightened and turned around, slowly, somehow knowing the scene that would await her.

_He _was lounging on the couch, calm as you please, as though he actually belonged there and weren't some mythical king from a fantasyland she hadn't encountered in ages.

"Looking for this?" he asked lightly, holding out the remote.

She ventured towards him to snatch the remote from his outstretched hand, immediately backing away to a safe distance. Jareth laughed richly at her skittishness.

"What are you doing here?" she asked stupidly. Inside she was screaming. _I banished you! Go away! You can't be here!_

"I can't just stop by to see an old friend?"

"We aren't friends," she told him, though it came out sounding more like a question than the firm rebuttal she'd intended. Truthfully, a part of her was tickled pink at the idea that she was friends with the King of the Goblins. Just watch the popular girls at school try to match _that_!

She squelched the thought resolutely.

"You wound me, Sarah." He didn't look wounded. He looked a lot more like smugly self-assured. Of course, that's how he always looked. "You refuse to give me a chance?"

"You stole my brother," she reminded him, nervously backing up another step.

"Nonsense," he dismissed the accusation brusquely, "I took him at your request."

"I didn't mean it!"

He raised an eyebrow. "That's _my_ fault?"

"I beat you."

For a moment, his lip curled in slight displeasure at this reminder, but his expression quickly returned to one of unconcerned nonchalance. "Indeed you did."

"I won him back fair and square."

"Yes," he agreed.

"So… why are you here?" Sarah finally asked again.

"As I said. To see an old friend." He patted the couch beside him. "Come. Sit. Talk with me."

She stared at him in disbelief.

"Really Sarah," he admonished gently, "I grant your wish, offer you your dreams, generously allow you to take _back_ that wish—and you won't even do this one little thing for me?"

"What do you want?" she asked.

He quirked his lips. "To talk," he said.

"That's all?" she asked suspiciously.

His eyes trailed over her briefly. "For now."

The idea of being friends with the King of the Goblins was really too tempting for the dreamer in her to ignore. "Promise me that you won't touch Toby," she said.

He spread his hands. "So promised," he said. "Now come sit with me."

She hesitated for a moment, but slowly walked to the couch and sat down beside him—making sure to put several feet between the two of them.

"My parents will be home in a couple of hours," she told him nervously.

"I know," he said.

"Why do you want to talk to me?" she blurted out.

"You are the only human to have solved my Labyrinth," he said. "Obviously I am curious about you."

"You aren't angry? I thought you would be," she said awkwardly.

His eyes darkened briefly. "No," he said, though something in the way he said it made Sarah shiver. "No, I'm not angry."

It galled him to say it, but he carefully schooled his features into indifference and even friendliness towards Sarah. He did not at the moment have power over her; and he would do whatever it took to make that situation right again.

So as he sat beside her on the couch, he spoke gently to her, pretended as though he were a harmless little lamb. If there is one thing the King of the Goblins had, it was patience. And soon, oh, _soon_ she would know his anger.

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A/N: Please read and review!


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Thrall  
Author: Anisky  
Summary: Love is not always gentle and kind, and he will never rest until he owns her body, mind, and soul. J/S, of a sort. Evil Jareth  
Rating: R  
Disclaimer: None of it's mine!  
A/N: So, I should've asked this in the first chapter, or preferably even before the first chapter, but too late now; would anybody be willing to beta this for me? I have the plot mostly worked out, but there will probably be some consultation about minor plot tangles; besides that, I'd need a beta mostly for tone, characterization, and that sort of thing, opinions on whether what I've written makes sense or suggestions for better flow/characterization/etc. Also for typos I've overlooked, of course. If anyone's interested, please email me at melknapp at gmail dot com (or just say it in your review, I guess). (I'm good at taking criticism, I swear.)  
So, without further ado...

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Chapter 2

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_Was that a dream?_ Sarah wondered as she lay in bed the next morning. She didn't think so, but the whole experience had been so... surreal.

_The King of the Goblins wants to be my friend_, she thought, feeling somewhat delirious, and found herself giggling hysterically.

"Sarah?" Karen's slightly harried voice cut into Sarah's hilarity. "Are you up yet?"

Sarah took a few deep breaths to stop her laughter. "Yeah, I'm up," she called back after a few moments.

"Good," Karen yelled back. "Breakfast's in fifteen minutes!"

"Okay!"

Sarah sighed and forced herself out of bed. Morning was by far her least favorite part of the day. At least she had plenty to occupy her mind, she reflected.

Her life had become exceedingly weird, and she felt no small amount of pride in the thought. She'd wanted her life to be a fantasy story, and she was succeeding. _Cool_, she thought, as she opened her closet to rummage through her clothes for the day's outfit. She felt like something a bit flamboyant today, she decided.

--

Jareth watched her in one of his crystals contemplatively. She appeared to be in a good mood, humming as she went about her usual routine. He smiled, pleased with this state of affairs; he knew that she would still be suspicious, but she was proving easy enough to win over. He threw the crystal into the air and let it vanish, then relaxed back into his throne. Yes, things were proceeding entirely to plan.

He let his mind wander to his encounter the evening before, the first time he had gotten to see her face to face since the catastrophe that had been her journey through the Labyrinth.

It had amused him, how her first thoughts had been worry over her brother; it had annoyed him a little as well, of course, as it was a reminder of her obsession with getting him back, but he was putting that to rights in any case. He had been slightly surprised, that her only concern be that he not hurt Toby, and she had given not a thought to her own well-being. Well, that was just as well. Her selfishness had been adorable, of course, but it was for the best that she had learned to put the concerns of others above her own. Soon enough, after all, she would serve him, and would be his needs and desires that she attended above her own.

His grin grew wider as he turned his thoughts to that time, not too far away, when she would live to serve him, defer to him, look to him for guidance... to love him and obey him in all things. He wanted her to be dependent upon him for everything. He wanted her to have no possessions except for those he had given to her, no friends but those to whom he'd introduced her, no thoughts that did not originate from and end with him.(1)

The mere thought of it made him harden, and at the same time it relaxed him, made him feel contented and... happy. How long since he had felt happy! He could only imagine how much better the reality would be, if the fantasy sent such pleasure surging through him. It was this thought that allowed him to hide his anger from her and be so soft and gentle with her; he simply reminded himself that soon she would be punished, and that soon things would finally be as they were meant to be, and he was calm enough to pretend.

But he couldn't move too quickly, or she would become suspicious. Best to wait a few days before coming to her again; that is how one would strike up a casual friendship, or at least, so Jareth had been lead to believe; he had not much experience with friendship himself.

Whenever he was not needed to maintain his newly constructed kingdom, the Goblin King watched the girl in his crystals, wondering when the best time would be to pay her another visit.

Finally, three days later, he conjured a crystal to see her sitting on a park bench, reading. She had stopped playing-acting at the park so much after the Labyrinth, deciding it was time to Grow Up a bit, but it was still one of her favorite spots, and she often went there to read or just to sit and collect her thoughts.

It seemed like the perfect opportunity to see her again, so Jareth vanished the crystal and stood up, getting ready to appear next to her. Then he paused and looked down at his attire; flawless as usual, but fitting for a Goblin King, not an Abovegrounder , and his Sarah was in public where anybody could see them. He wasn't sure how humans dressed, so he conjured another crystal and studied the raiment of the men who passed by her. There were too few; with a sigh of annoyance, he directed his crystal instead to a busy city street. After a minutes of studying the men who passed, he had a fairly good idea of what would be appropriate. He was unsure whether to dress casually or in the more formal garments he saw on a couple of men; but then he saw a man in a leather jacket, and the matter was decided.

He added a black t-shirt under the jacket, and a pair of jeans, as he had seen on most of the humans dressed informally. He conjured a mirror and considered himself, turned the jeans from blue to black, and tamed his hair in a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

Yes, the effect was quite satisfactory, he decided. Not as impressive as his usually wardrobe, but rather tolerable nonetheless.

He took a moment to make sure that he was calm, to slip into the persona of the friendly, teasing, clawless Goblin King, and then he disappeared, and reappeared next to Her.

Sarah, for her part, was so absorbed in her book that she didn't notice that a man had suddenly materialized beside her. Jareth, entertained by this, declined to immediately alert her to his presence. Instead he leaned back, enjoying the feel of an Earthly evening, warm and summery, but with a slight chill warning the fall was about to creep up upon this small New England town.

When she still didn't notice after several minutes (_How adorable_, he thought mirthfully), he stretched his arms and let one stretch across the back of the bench, so that it was almost cradling Sarah's shoulders.

Sarah shut her book, looking up and opening her mouth with the intention of telling off whoever interrupted her in such an overly familiar way. When she realized who it was, she was so shocked that she forgot to close her mouth.

Jareth smirked and placed a finger under her chin, gently closing her mouth for her. "Hello again," he said brightly.

"Hi," Sarah managed. _Oh my gods, he looks so hot_, she thought to herself. "I... I didn't realize you were there."

"Yes, I know," he said, with much amusement.

"How long were you sitting there?" she asked, almost afraid to know.

"Only about five minutes," he reassured her.

Five whole minutes of not noticing the Goblin King sitting next to her was plenty embarrassing to Sarah. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I just get so involved in the story sometimes, I don't notice anything else."

Jareth raised an eyebrow.

"Though only once have I ended up _actually_ in the story, of course," she added, understanding only half of his response.

The Goblin King threw his head back and laughed. "I should hope so," he said, "there's only so much trouble one girl can get into."

"So there are other worlds?" she asked, eagerly. "Is trouble really the only way to access them?"

"There are," he said, "and usually, yes, if a human is in another world, it is because that human is in a world of trouble. You are one of very, very few to come back unscathed." _For now_, he added silently, and he couldn't stop himself from clenching a fist, hoping she didn't notice.

"Back from the Labyrinth, or back from any other world?" she inquired. She found this line of conversation beyond fascinating-- how lucky, how privileged she was, that there was somebody who would tell her about these things! She was learning things that so few humans ever knew.

"From any other world," he clarified. "You're the _only_ living person to have come back from the Labyrinth... at least, the only one who remembers it, and kept the wished-away child."

"Wow," Sarah whispered, torn between pride and embarrassment at the implied praise. She had to pause a moment to ask her next question, as a couple ambled by, enjoying the late summer air. Finally they passed beyond hearing and she could continue the conversation. "How many are there on Earth, who have come back from other lands and remember it?"

Jareth thought about it for a moment. There was no harm in telling her the truth of the matter, he decided. The more he was truthful, the more he would appear genuine, and alleviate suspicion; and this would tell her nothing that could help her escape him.

"Currently alive... perhaps five," he said. "I'm not entirely sure. It might be four, or six. I don't always pay strict attention to the affairs of other realms."

Sarah nodded slowly, absorbing that. "Five," she repeated. "I'm not sure whether to feel comforted that I'm not the only one, or lonely because there are so few of us in such a large world."

"You don't need _them_ to be not alone," Jareth pointed out, quietly. _He_ was all she should need, and all she soon _would_ need.

She looked up at him, once again understanding half of what he said. "You aren't what I expected," she admitted to him.

"What did you expect?" he replied lightly.

"Truthfully? It's a bit embarrassing." She looked down at her lap with a self-deprecating grin. "I was expecting a villain. I was expecting someone to hate me for besting him, conniving to steal back my little brother... or to get back at me. Not somebody who would sit here and tell me all about the things I'm dying to know. And especially not somebody who can make me feel... as you said. Not-alone."

The Goblin King was momentarily stunned at her response. He had so many conflicting emotions, and he wasn't sure which of them to settle upon. He was her villain, in some ways; he wanted to get back at her, certainly, and he hated her, but he also loved her in equal measure. The part he was playing was an act only to a point. Part of it was him. Did he already make her feel the way she said? Did he, as he sat her casually talking with her, pretending friendship, actually form a true connection with her?

Irrelevant, he told himself. All her thoughts would center upon him soon enough. He would be the focus of her entire being, so the depth of their connection now only mattered insofar as it would make her easier to mold into his slave.

He told himself that was why he was happy about banishing her feelings of loneliness; it was because she recognized him as her master, and responded to it. _That_ was the source of his pleasure at the thought.

Sarah grew increasingly uneasy in his silence, worrying that she had said something wrong, that her confession had insulted him, or scared him off. Eventually she said, tentatively, "I'm sorry if I misjudged you... and I... I don't mean to put anything on you. About the not-alone thing, I mean, I--"

Jareth cut her off-- thankfully, because she had no idea what she'd been about to say. "Sarah, you said nothing wrong. I was simply... surprised by your words. But in a good way," he assured her. With his free hand he reached for hers', and took one of them gently in his. "I didn't dare dream that I would make you feel that way, you, surrounded by other humans, able to have friendships and companionship with those like yourself... something that is hard for me to find."

He was being too truthful. Why was he telling her this?_ All to ensnare her_, Jareth told himself. And maybe, also, to reward her. He was happy that she saw that the two of them were connected, that they belonged together; it would be only a small step for her to realize that _she_ belonged to _him_. She saw this truth, she felt a comfort in his presence; and as a reward, he let her see a bit of himself. That was right, he decided.

"But they're not like me," Sarah whispered, breathless at his touch, savoring the feeling of his hand on hers without even properly understanding why. Everything about him went to her head; being around him was like being drunk, on fine champagne. "They're not like me at all."

"I know they're not," he assured her softly. He lifted the arm that had been rested behind her, and stroked her hair. "You're special. You were born Aboveground, but you were meant for the Underground." _You were meant for_ me, he added silently.

Sarah, having no idea what to say in response to that, remained silent, and tried to drown herself in the feeling of his hand squeezing hers and his fingers stroking her hair. They remained like that for a long time, both of them with a contentedness they had not realized was possible.

The bell tower chimed nine times, and Sarah realized that she had to get home.

"I have to go now," she said, picking up her book.

Jareth nodded, and removed his hands from her. Sarah tried not to shiver at the loss, because it was a warm evening and she would not be able to pass it off as cold. She stood up to leave, then after a few moments, turned around to check that he was still there.

"You know, there should be a way for me to decide when to see you, too," she said. "It's no fair, that you can just pop up, and I don't get a say in it. If this is going to be an equal friendship, I should have a way to contact you."

Jareth wanted to point out that they were not, after all, equal; he was simply a superior being. But he knew that if he were to say that, truth though it may be, Sarah would become very angry, and it would undo all the ground he'd gained.

Besides, her request had been perfect, and he had a response that would put her right where he wanted her.

"Well," he said, "you can call on me whenever you like, you know."

"I can?" she asked. "And it won't mean you can take somebody away or something?"

"Yes, you can. These things are quite simple, actually. Simply don't wish anybody away, and I won't take anybody." He didn't tell her the real consequence of calling upon him; she would discover it, eventually, when it suited his purposes. Instead, he winked at her.

Sarah blushed and laughed a little. "So I just call your name, and you'll come?"

"If I am able," he replied. "Often, if I am taking care of matters of state, then I won't respond to a summons."

Sarah nodded. "Of course."

"But otherwise," he continued, "yes, all you need to do is call my name."

"Cool," Sarah said, smiling. "And you won't get annoyed with me if I call you here?"

"Now, why would I get annoyed?" he asked gently. "Do you get annoyed when I show up?"

She shook her head, still blushing a little bit. "Quite the contrary."

"Well, there you have it."

Sarah nodded. "Well, thank you then," she said. "And, well," she continued awkwardly, "thank you for a very enjoyable evening. I really liked spending time with you."

"Likewise," Jareth replied. He nodded to her, then disappeared, leaving nothing but a smattering of glitter on the bench.

Sarah smiled slightly, and hugged herself, then headed home.

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(1) I think I owe this particular version of this sentiment to The House of the Spirits, by Isabel Allende. I tried to find where in the book Esteban thinks this of Clara for a couple of hours, but didn't find it; but I'm relatively sure that I got the idea of this thought from there.

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A/N: I want to thank everybody so much for their reviews!! I got so many more than I expected, and you're all amazing. I wish that I could reply to all of them, but sadly I'm rather busy; I'll try to reply to them next chapter (which hopefully will be coming more quickly than this one did!). Also, I wrote a portion of the last part while tipsy, so I apologize if things are a bit off, or don't make sense. Possibly I'll upload a revised version in the next couple of days, when I'm sober. ;)

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And as always, please review, whether your comments are good, bad or indifferent! I want them all! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Thrall  
Author: Anisky  
Summary: Love is not always gentle and kind, and he will never rest until he owns her body, mind, and soul. J/S, of a sort. Evil Jareth  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer: None of it's mine!  
A/N: Yes, it's true! After two years, I am updating Thrall! Man, I am a fanfiction MACHINE right now! Though still tragically beta-less. So if you're interested in being my beta-reader, please tell me! I'll elaborate in the A/N at the end.

So, last chapter might have left you thinking Jareth was gonna decide to be a fuzzy bunny... but trust me, after this chapter, it gets pretty nasty. Sarah's revelation is gonna force his hand, and all of you who have been waiting for evil, controlling, sadistic Jareth... next chapter on, you are going to get your wish.

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Chapter 3

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Jareth certainly would have been pleased, had he known how constantly Sarah, over the next few days, thought of him and their encounters.

Mostly she was not too suspicious of his motives, probably because she didn't want to be. After all, Sarah had wished for her life to be a fantasy story for as long as she could remember; evaluating Jareth with an objective eye was more than could be asked of any teenaged girl whose dreams had come true. She wanted so badly to believe that he was telling her the truth, so she did.

Naïve though she was, Sarah _was_ aware how little she understood him. There was one exchange, in particular, that confused her. She replayed the words in her head as she lay in bed on a lazy Saturday morning:

_"But they're not like me. They're not like me at all."_

_"I know they're not. You're special. You were born Aboveground, but you were meant for the Underground."_

You were born Aboveground, but you were meant for the Underground.

What had he meant by that, exactly?

At the time, she had simply felt flattered, and caught up in the magic of his words. It was like she'd imagined her whole life. She didn't belong here, in the mundane world; she belonged in a world of magic.

But looking back on the words, she found that they were... problematic. Okay, say she was "meant" for the Underground. What now? Did he expect her to return? If so, would she return to the Labyrinth, or one of the other realms he'd mentioned? What would she do there- have a career and a family, like she would on Earth, only with magic?

Or perhaps he didn't expect her to return at all. Perhaps, though meant for the Underground, it was her destiny to live Aboveground anyway, pushing her way through life in a world where she didn't quite fit.

Actually, the tragic romance of the latter situation was not entirely unappealing to Sarah. (Nobody who knew her could deny that she had something of a martyr complex.)

Sarah shook herself. Likely she was reading too much into his words, obsessing over some throwaway comment that didn't really mean anything.

She stretched and decided it was time to emerge from the comfort of her bed to take a shower. As she let the hot water run down her, she reflected, not for the first time, that although it was good to know that she had a way to summon him if she wanted to, she kind of wished she hadn't put the ball in her court that way. Not so soon, anyway.

Because now, of course, she had to decide when she should call him. What was the right amount of time? He'd only visited her twice so far. Should she just wait the same amount of time as he took between his visits? If so, then she should call on him today.

It made sense, but she couldn't help feeling awfully shy and nervous. Maybe she should just wait for him to visit her again. But would he be hurt, that she hadn't called on him? Or maybe annoyed, that she'd asked for a way to summon him and then didn't bother to use it?

She'd been in the shower for so long that the water was growing cold, so after a quick rinse she shut off the water.

"Argh!" Sarah let out a noise of frustration as she leaned out of the shower for her towel. She wished she wouldn't freak out so much, that she could just go with the flow and not worry about every little thing. She didn't feel this way when Jareth was actually here; then it felt easy, natural. Once he was gone, though, she just couldn't believe that the King of the Goblins would have any interest in being her _friend_.

She tried to clear her head as she dressed, but as she found herself dressing in a cute little skirt and top she knew flattered her figure, it was hard to avoid the conclusion that she was dressing for him.

It was the day that it made sense to call him, wasn't it?

She sat down heavily at her vanity and shook her head in an attempt to clear it. Her eyes drifted to the pictures of her mother that were taped to the sides of the mirror. They'd been there for so long that she rarely thought about them anymore; her eyes usually just slid over them as they did most of the familiar things she saw each day. Now, glad for her mind to have a diversion, she actually looked at each of them. She smiled a bit wistfully at the pictures of the mother who she saw only once or twice a year.

Her smile froze as she came to one picture in particular. This one was a proper picture, not a newspaper cutout, and it featured Linda with her director in one of the first movies she'd ever done. Sarah remembered that movie very well; it was the one when her mother never returned. As a young girl Sarah had sometimes been separated from her mother for a few months when she had to live in New York for Broadway shows, but she'd always returned, and the first few trips to Hollywood had been no different.

Until this show. Instead, she'd called to say that she'd fallen in love with her director, Jeremy, and that they were going to move in together in California. It had been a complete shock to the nine-year-old Sarah, seemingly coming out of nowhere. She'd only even met the man once, but then, she didn't see her mother often either. After half a year or so, Jeremy seemed to have disappeared, and her mother had never mentioned him again. But still, she hadn't come home.

All that, however, was not why the picture had captured Sarah's attention so thoroughly. She ripped it from the mirror, needing to look at it more closely, make sure that her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.

Her jaw dropped. As she stared down at the image in her hands, her jaw actually fell, leaving her mouth hanging open.

"Holy shit," she breathed, and she swore she could feel her heart stop beating and the world come crashing down around her.

How could she have missed it? That picture had been hanging up in her room for years. She must have glanced at it hundreds, if not thousands, of times in her life.

But how often did she really look at the pictures? Especially this one, which held so many bad memories, so many negative associations...

Still. From the first moment he'd appeared to her, she should have recognized him. How could she _possibly_ not have recognized...

"Jareth!" she cried out the name, in both anger and confusion. None of this made any sense!

"Yes?" a voice behind her asked coolly.

Sarah whirled around; she'd known she was summoning him, but somehow she was still startled to see him there, leaning easily against her wall. Her emotions were churning, but she swallowed, straightened resolutely, and tried not to tremble as she stalked towards him.

"What is _this_?" she demanded, holding up the picture.

Jareth raised an eyebrow and glanced at it casually. "It appears to be a photograph." He made no attempt to pay it any more attention than that.

Sarah nearly growled in anger, and clenched the first not holding the photograph. She couldn't believe he was playing this game.

"Take it," she spat, thrusting it at him.

He took the picture with an air of annoyance-though if Sarah were more clear-headed she might have noticed a smug glint in his eyes.

"Take a good look. What's _in _the photograph?"

Then, unable to help herself, she backed away from him quickly.

Any of the smugness Sarah hadn't noticed faded as he lifted up the picture and inspected it. "Ah," he said, grimly.

"'Ah'?" Sarah repeated in disbelief, as she took another step back. "_That's_ all you have to say? So, what? You dated my mom? Is that what this is all about? She dumped you, and so you're going after me as some replacement?"

Jareth tsked at her and pushed away from the wall with one swift, smooth stride; he was beside her so quickly that Sarah started.

"Don't you ever listen?" he asked her, chidingly. He lowered his voice and sang in his melodic, hypnotic voice. "Everything I've done I've done for you…"

"Bull_shit_." Sarah pushed away from him, and and once again put plenty of space between them. He let her go, leaning back casually against her wall.

"It's not ladylike to curse," he told her.

Sarah stared at him, unable to believe_ that _was his response. With some effort at acting less freaked than she really was, she rolled her eyes. "Do you really expect me to believe that—what? You dated my mother for me? That doesn't even make any _sense_."

This really was a nuisance, Jareth thought. He wished he'd had the foresight to remove that picture from her room; it really was unfortunate that she'd discovered this particular aspect of their history. It had been necessary, but she wouldn't understand that. She would just react with anger, believing herself to have been betrayed, and no amount of reasoning would convince her. She may be special, but she was still human, with human flaws. She would not be able to understand.

It put a wrench in his plans, no doubt about that. His slow seduction, culminating in Sarah's pledging herself to him as his willing slave, was no longer an option. His tactics would need to change.

Wait a moment, he told himself. He was simply assuming that she would be unreasonable; he should give her a chance, to accept him and demonstrate that she had faith in his judgment. He could be generous; he could give her a chance to be good.

"Your mother could have no more children," he explained to her. "And you needed a sibling you would resent."

The blood drained from Sarah's face. His words hit her like a punch in the stomach, and it was several moments before she caught her breath enough to respond.

"You drove away my mother?" she asked hoarsely.

"Tempted her away would be a better way to put it," he suggested.

Sarah swallowed heavily as a wave of nausea swept over her. "Get away from me." She spoke in a low voice.

"Sarah." He spoke her name softly, like a caress with a hint of gentle warning. "It is better if you try to understand. I could not come to you until-"

"Understand?" Sarah shrieked, cutting off his words. "You seduced my mother to take her from me! There's nothing to _understand_! And if there is, then I don't _want _to! It's disgusting! It was-"

"It was _necessary_." Jareth gave her one more chance. "There was no other way to ever appear to you. If-"

"Get. Away. From. Me." Sarah's voice was was so cold, anyone human would have shivered.

Jareth simply raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "Come again?"

He had been so very generous; he had given her a chance to avoid the terrors that would now await her.

_So be it, then,_ he thought. What a shame. She had refused to listen to him, and it was only she who would suffer for it.

His original plan would have been much more pleasant for her. But if it was no longer possible she would come willingly, why then he would simply have to take her by force. Force would be no less enjoyable to him. For her, of course, the path ahead would be full of pain; he would have to hurt her; but that _was _her own fault. For refusing to see the necessity of his actions, for ignoring just how much trouble he'd gone to, all for her.

And when she was finally his, she would have to understand that none of what she'd endured would count towards the expiation of her original offense. His securing Sarah as his slave and his punishing her for defying him in his own Labyrinth were two completely separate events. Once she belonged to him, she would not be disciplined any more gently, just because she had already suffered. His retribution, her penance, would be just as harsh as it would have been had his plans not been derailed; in fact, they might be harsher, since now she'd defied him twice.

"Get out!" she spat. "You're _sick_. I _never_ want to see you again."

And so rudely, too.

"Well, that's quite a shame," he replied, casual and smug, "as I'm quite happy right here."

"Well, tough, because you're leaving, now. _You have no power over me_."

She had expected him to disappear, to evaporate or something. Instead he cocked his head to the side and paused, as though waiting for something to happen. Then he shrugged mockingly and grinned wolfishly at her.

"Oh, but I do, my love." His tone was alluring and dangerous as he stood and stalked towards her once more. "No matter how you wish to deny it, you have given me power over you…those words only work if they're true, you see."

Sarah felt as though someone had reached into her lungs and ripped the breath right out of her; her heart thudded heavily in her chest. She backed away as he moved closer to her, until she discovered she'd backed herself into the wall, and she cursed herself for being so careless. As she did so, she made an even bigger mistake: she glanced up at his face, so near to hers. Their eyes met.

She opened her mouth but forgot what she had been about to say, and so closed it again, dazed. She tried to pry her eyes away from his, but somehow she couldn't, and suddenly she was so confused, she could barely even remember what they had been arguing about…

He leaned down and kissed her, gently but also possessively. This one, last time, he would be gentle with her. Tomorrow her true nightmare would begin.

He pulled back after a few seconds, and she furrowed her brow as she looked up at him, still feeling all muddled. He chucked her chin and backed away from her, holding his arms out from his sides.

"Until later," he said; and he was gone.

It took Sarah a few seconds to get her bearings, and once she did horror flooded through her veins. Why had she let him do that? How could she have been so _weak_?

She collapsed onto her bed and buried her face in her pillow, trying desperately not to cry. His eyes. They must have some sort of... some sort of hypnotic power. She must be sure never to look into them. She didn't like the idea of always averting her eyes from his; something about it seemed timid, submissive almost. But she liked even less his being able to control the way he just had.

She could find a way out of this; she'd beaten him at his own game before, hadn't she? The last thing she needed was to start weeping like some damsel in distress. Not to mention he might be watching her at this very moment. The thought chilled her down to the bone, not only that he might be watching now, but at _any _time, and she had no way of knowing. But it also added to her determination to keep her eyes dry. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

She was so overwhelmed by fear and disgust that it took a while to get herself in check, but she eventually managed it. She sat up, breathing deeply, and thought. When she had run the Labyrinth, the game had been clear, she had known the goal, she had known how to go about achieving it. Now she didn't even know what the game was.

She didn't even know what it was he wanted.

She went over everything he'd said to her carefully, replaying it all in her mind. He hadn't disappeared because she'd given him power over her, he'd said. How had she done that, and how could she take it back again?

She didn't know, but she was damn well going to figure it out.

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A/N: Oooh... and the game is ON! Or as on as it can be, given it's not really a game at all. I ought to warn you, I can be a pretty sick puppy, and I am *seriously* looking forward to what's up next...

I repeat my plea: if you are willing to beta for this fic (or a more consensual but still S&M-y Labyrinth fic, or a much tamer next-gen Harry Potter fic, or any combination thereof), PLEASE let me know! I don't really need a grammar person (except to catch typos and similar errors) so much as a plot person for idea bouncing and/or someone to help me identify the happy medium of detail. (I worry my details about appearance are often too abstract and my details about actions too concrete, but feel free to give your opinion in a review, whether or not you want to beta!)

Speaking of which: please review! So much love for all my reviewers. I'm certainly not "holding the fic hostage" until I receive a numerical imperative, but you know, the more encouragement I get, the more motivated and enthusiastic I'm likely to be... just sayin'... ;)


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Thrall  
Author: Anisky  
Summary: Love is not always gentle and kind, and he will never rest until he owns her body, mind, and soul. J/S, of a sort. Evil Jareth  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer: None of it's mine!

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Chapter 4

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Sarah rubbed her eyes tiredly as she tried to concentrate on the book in front of her. She hadn't been sleeping well the past few nights, ever since her confrontation with Jareth, and no wonder. Not only was the Goblin King stalking her, he'd been doing so for years, and he'd... he'd even been the reason her mother had abandoned her. And now he wanted something from her, and Sarah didn't even know what.

No, it was not surprising that she'd been having nightmares.

But she had to push through. Sarah had, for the first time in her life, cut class; not just once, but every day this past week. As soon as homeroom was over, she headed right for the school library. She didn't have high hopes for what she might find there; the mythology section wasn't exactly extensive. But she had to start somewhere, so she'd grabbed all the books on mythology that might have anything to do with her situation, and was pouring through them.

What might give Jareth power over her? What had happened since the moment she'd defeated the Labyrinth and the moment she'd tried, in vain, to banish him from her bedroom?

Most of the books were about Greek mythology, and while a Labyrinth was the subject of several famous myths, this Greek version didn't seem to have anything to do with the Goblin Kingdom. The only real similarity was that they were both mazes that were difficult to navigate. Sarah briefly played with the idea the Ludo could be a minotaur, but she knew that was a stretch.

The words swam meaninglessly around the page, and she shut the book with a sigh. She needed to find a way to get some real sleep, or she'd never be able to think clearly enough to make progress.

Sarah checked her watch; it was 11 o'clock. She'd been in the school library for over three hours and she didn't feel any closer to a lead than when she started. Who even knew how much time she had? Time before _what_, for that matter?

The rules had been simple and direct in the Labyrinth: she had 13 hours to run through the maze and then say the Words to the Goblin King. If she did this, she would get her brother back. If she didn't, he'd become a goblin. It was grotesque and stressful, but at least it had been straightforward.

Well, in _theory_ it had been straightforward. In practice, not so much, but the point was, she'd had a goal. Now her only goal was to foil Jareth, which would be extremely difficult if she didn't even know what he was planning.

She stood up- the room swam around her briefly as she did so, but it eventually stilled again- and took the books to the front desk to check them out. She doubted she'd find anything of use in them, but it couldn't hurt to have them on hand. She considered leaving then, just cutting school altogether. A vengeful Goblin King stalking her seemed like a pretty good excuse for missing school, even if nobody would believe it. But instead she found herself craving some normalcy, and decided to attend fifth period Biology class.

Craving normalcy. _Now that's irony, _she thought. Just a week ago, she'd been reveling in the fact that she'd turned her life into a fantasy story, as she'd been trying to do her entire life. Now, all she wanted was for her life to be like everybody else's.

Still, she couldn't concentrate during Biology, and found herself thinking about her problem instead- and trying desperately not to ywan.

There weren't many other places in her small Connecticut town where she thought she could find books on mythology. There was a local library, but it wasn't much better stocked than the high school library. Besides, the Goblin King and the Castle and the Center of the Labyrinth weren't exactly common stories in mythology. Sarah had assumed they'd been made up by the author of The Labyrinth, because she wasn't familiar with any myths similar to it. Whatever mythologies might so much as mention Jareth and his kingdom, let alone give her anything useful, must be extremely obscure.

Which meant, she thought grimly, she'd have to go to New York.

New York City was only about a two hour train ride from her town. The commute wasn't the problem; the problem was that Sarah wasn't even sixteen years old yet, and she was most emphatically not allowed to go to New York alone. She'd either have to get a parent to take her under false pretenses, or she'd have to sneak out.

Although Sarah was sure anything her father or Karen might do to her was nothing compared to whatever Jareth had planned, she might not even find anything in the city libraries, and then it would all be for nothing.

Probably she'd end up having to go to the city, Sarah admitted, but before that, she had a couple of other avenues of investigation she could try.

She headed home after Biology. Even if sitting in class was normal in the sense that it's the same thing she'd done her whole life, it hadn't improved her mood.

Usually Sarah took the bus to and from school, but it was only about a thirty minute walk to her house. Tired as she was, the walk wasn't bad. She could take it nice and slow, and the fresh air seemed to ease the pressure behind her eyes a bit. When she arrived, she was glad to see that Karen wasn't home. It would be hard to claim that she'd gotten sick and then walked home instead of called for a parent to retrieve her.

She went up to her room, and hesitated as she stood in front of her vanity. The Labyrinth was sitting inside the top drawer. The thought of touching it made her jittery, but it was her major clue, and she couldn't ignore it any longer.

So she opened her drawer and took out the little red book. It was strange, she'd spent so much time with this book, but when she tried to remember the author, or the publication date, or anything like that, she drew a blank. Probably, she thought, she was trying to repress anything to do with the Labyrinth.

She flipped open the book to the title page, and read the author's name. That's right, she thought. She turned the page to see the copyright date. Yes, that's what it was.

She closed the book and pushed it away from her, happy to have gotten her information. She took out a pen and notebook to record the information, only to realize that she'd already forgotten it.*

_That's odd, _she thought. _I must be _really _tired._

With a shrug, she picked up the book again, and kept the title page open as she wrote down the author's name and the publication date.

She looked down at her notebook, only to see random scribblings.

_I must have let it fall to another page. _Narrowing her eyes, she flipped through the rest of the notebook, but none of the pages contained the name of the author.

She started to feel sick, but she had to keep trying. This time, she opened the notebook to the first page, so there was no chance that she'd lose the page where she'd written the name. She looked at the name, and then looked intently down at the notebook, about to write the name, but it was gone from her mind. Then she focused on the name while she wrote, only to find that she'd scribbled nothing but gibberish.

No matter what she did, she couldn't seem to record the information. If she kept her eyes on the name, she couldn't write it correctly. If she kept her eyes on what she was writing, she couldn't remember the name.

What kind of magic _was _this? She found it creepier than anything (well, nearly anything) so far, because it affected her mind. This magic went straight into her mind and erased information.

Giving it up as impossible, she next tried just to tear the title page from the book. But no matter how hard she strained, she couldn't seem to rip the single page from the book.

"Okay, now I'm _really_ getting pissed off," Sarah muttered. She rummaged through her things for a pair of scissors, and held out the page so she could just cut through it. But the scissors did nothing. Oh, she brought the blades together, and anything in between should have been severed; but the paper didn't get so much as a nick.

If she was trying to find information about the book, she'd have to carry it with her. But would that even work? If she forgot the name of the author the moment she closed the book, would anyone else have any better luck?

Well, maybe if the magic affected other people the way it did her, it might make some people believe her. She knew that most fantasy books and movies said that humans would go to great lengths to deny they were seeing or feeling something magical... but she wasn't going to dismiss _anything _that might help her.

She only had one more idea for information, but after the frustrations of the day, combined with her lack of quality sleep, she just didn't have the energy to try it now. They'd have a more constructive talk when she was better rested, anyway. Sarah decided to take a nap and just hope that this time, there wouldn't be any nightmares.

–

_When Sarah had been awake, she hadn't remembered her nightmares, only that they were terrifying and that she didn't want to go back to sleep. But now that she was back in this place, she remembered each of her previous nightmares with crystal clarity. In this place, they felt not like dreams but like memories; every bit as real and as sensical as recalling the events of a normal school day._

__

This place. What was this place? It was constantly changing and it was always the same. Sometimes it was a dungeon, and sometimes it was a ballroom; sometimes it was an oubliette, and sometimes it was a flower-filled field; sometimes it was a torture room, filled with various instruments for giving pain, and sometimes it was a grove of trees with a brook trickling through it. All of these things, and more, it had been, shifting from one moment to the next; yet at the same time, it was as it had always been, solid and everlasting.

_She remembered everything this place had been, and she remembered everything he had done. She remembered _everything_._

__

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no, no."

"Well," a familiar voice drawled from behind her. "You're back early. So eager to see me again?"

_"Leave me alone," she said, refusing to turn around. They were in the woods, and she looked over at where some birds were nesting. It left her vulnerable, unable to see where he was, but she didn't care. She didn't _want _to see him._

__

He tutted. "You already know that is something I will not do," he said.

He when he spoke, he sounded closer to her than he had been a moment ago. She could hear his footsteps on the ground as he grew closer. The floor was made of tile. The nesting birds were part of a tapestry, hanging on the wall.

_"You _also _know I don't appreciate your giving orders," he continued. "If there is something you wish of me, you will phrase it politely, as a request." His footsteps stopped, but that was little comfort, as she was sure he was only a few feet from her, now. "Or better yet..." His voice was low and rumbled with amusement, and suddenly, though she did not hear him move, he was murmuring in her ear:_

__

"Better yet, as a plea."

She could feel his breath on her ear.

"This is just a dream, it's not real, this is just a dream, it's not real..." she told herself, over and over.

_He laughed that low, rumbling laugh again. "Now, you know that isn't true," he told her, and one of his hands brushed down her side. "It may be a dream.. but it's also very, _very_ real."_

__

She jumped away, startled and terrified at the intimate gesture, and whirled around to face him. Not seeing him had just become worse than seeing him. The surroundings melted away. There was nothing but he and her, Jareth and Sarah. The rest was void.

"Jareth," she said, her voice low. "I think you're killing me."

_He snorted in amusement. "Always so dramatic, aren't you, my Sarah? I know you're afraid, but you will not die of fear. It's all for the best. I give you my _word_ that you shall not die."_

__

She shook her head. "I'm not being dramatic," she said, "and I don't mean from fear. I mean that, when I'm awake, I think I haven't been sleeping because the nightmares wake me up. I'm so tired there, and when I'm there and I forget the nightmares, I think it's because I only sleep a few hours each night. But I've been asleep each night for many hours, haven't I?"

"You've been here with me throughout the night for the past three nights," he agreed.

"I've been here," she repeated. "But is that the same as being asleep?"

"Yes. Your body is still in your realm; it is resting in sleep. Only your mind is here."

Jareth took several steps towards her. The void was gone. The floor was marble and the walls were golden. "I'm tiring of this line of conversation," he told her casually.

Sarah retreated from him quickly. There was a short staircase, just five steps; she fled down it and looked up at him. "No, listen to me! It's not just my body that needs to sleep. My mind needs it, too. And I think when I'm here, it's not getting real sleep. It's not getting the rest it needs."

Jareth raised his hands in a slow clap, still advancing towards her, one step at a time. He took a moment at each step to view her, as though he enjoyed looking down upon her from above.

"Very good," he said. "You're absolutely right. There's only one detail you've missed."

"And what would that be?" she asked nervously, as she continued to back up.

It didn't work. He reached the end of the stairs, and trapped her against a wall that hadn't been behind her a moment ago. He pressed his body close to hers. She closed her eyes and turned her face away, but it did no good, every bit of him was pressed against her. And when she turned her head away, she left her neck exposed; he kissed it gently, then licked his way from her collarbone to her ear. She shivered.

"You've missed," he whispered, "the fact that I already knew that."

_"I _will _die if my brain doesn't get rest," Sarah persisted, trying her best to ignore the way he was touching her. "Do you know _that_?"_

__

He burrowed his face into the side of her neck; Sarah shivered, or possibly shuddered. She was so simultaneously repulsed and excited by what he was doing to her. She'd have rather just been repulsed; it would have been less confusing.

"It won't come to that," Jareth murmured into her neck, placing butterfly kisses along the side until he reached her throat. He kissed his way up her jaw, then paused. He pulled away, briefly, to look at her. "Technically speaking, you'd go permanently, irretrievably mad long before you began to die." He smirked at her, but Sarah couldn't find anything funny in the situation.

She raised her hands to his chest and tried her hardest to push him away from her. It didn't work, but he did raise his head to look at her. Frowning, Sarah kicked his shin as hard as she could. Infuriatingly, it didn't appear to hurt him at all.

"Stop that," he commanded her, with a quiet anger.

"You're driving me insane? On purpose?" Sarah demanded. She was terrified. In some ways, even death seemed less scary than being completely out of her mind. "You can't! You have no right!"

_To her horror, he began kissing her jaw again, making his way to her ear. "I'd have _every _right," he hissed, "if it were my wish to drive you mad. However"- he paused to suck on her earlobe- "you may be interested to know that is _not_, in fact, my plan."_

__

"It's not?" she asked, in a gasping voice she wished she could keep steady.

"I told you I can be generous," he whispered. "I've allowed you a single sleep cycle, each night. Not enough to make you feel rested, but enough to keep your sanity intact for the duration of our little game."

_"_That's_ your idea of generosity?" Sarah asked incredulously. He pulled away from her ear and bared his teeth at her disrespectful tone, but otherwise ignored her words as he continued._

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"Do not fear, my Sarah. Your mind will be too exhausted for you to fight me- you will give in to me well before you'd approach insanity, let alone death."

_Well, _those_ were two highly contradictory sentences. In Sarah's opinion, the idea that she'd give in to Jareth was a pretty damn good reason _to_ fear._

_If that was Jareth's idea of comforting her, she wondered if she should reevaluate everything he'd said thus far. There was every possibility that, in his own mind, he hadn't even _gotten_ to the threats yet._

Oh gods._ Sarah tried not to think about that anymore, since it would probably interfere with her current goal, which was to not collapse into a gibbering mass of terror. Standing up to Jareth would also be good._

_"I will _die_ before I give in to you," she told him, looking him straight in the eye. "I won't let you do this to me."_

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"Oh, won't you?"

She felt his chuckle rumbling through his whole body, and it reverberated against her. Most of her body shivered in unwilling enjoyment. But there was one place, right below the spot where the bottoms of her rib cages met, where she had always been ticklish. Far from turning her on, when his body moved against that spot, she convulsed and tried not to laugh, because it really did tickle.

_Yes, it was undignified, but it _did _allow her to keep a clear head, and for that she was grateful._

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"No, I won't," she told him staunchly. She raised her chin and stared at him, filled with determination.

"You're forgetting something," he told her.

Her hands were still pressing against his chest, and he grabbed each of her wrists. She expected him to press them behind her back, as he'd done before; but instead he pulled them forward, so they were wrapped around his neck. He crossed her arms behind the back of his shoulders and pulled them tight When he did this, the wall behind her disappeared, and they were in the woods again, but it did her no good. Her feet didn't touch the ground, so she was left dangling against him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her chest pressed against his. Once her arms encircled him he used one hand to hold both slender arms together behind his back, and brought his other hand forward to stroke her face, here inches from his.

Sarah ground her jaw, trying to pretend that she felt nothing at all, that her body was in a vacuum. She focused as hard as she could on her thoughts, as though that could make the rest of it melt away.

"What am I forgetting?" she demanded.

He smiled, and it was not a nice smile. It made her want to crawl out of her skin.

"You're forgetting that you forget," he said simply. "When you've woken up before, you've remembered nothing of your time here with me. You remember only that you've had a nightmare. So it will be when you leave me this time, and the next time, and the next. You cannot remember your time here until you have already returned."

Sarah's heart sank as she realized that he was right.

"Your waking mind," he continued, "will only remember our time here together, once you have returned to the Underground. Then your memories will reunite. But until that time, no matter what you learn here, you will not know it when you are awake.

"Even if there were a way to defeat me, and I told it to you, right now, it would do you no good," he gloated. He ran one hand through her hair, while with the other he cruelly tightened his grasp on her arms. Sarah whimpered in pain, and then cried out as he grabbed her hair by the roots and pulled her head back. She squirmed, trying to escape, but her squirming body against his only seemed to please him further.

"In your real world"- he spoke casually, as though he were not causing her to cry out in pain, as though he weren't gripping her arms behind him, forcing her to embrace him against her will- "which is where I must formally reclaim you as my own, you would know none of it. As you will not know, upon waking, that your nightmares are not ordinary nightmares. So you will not know to fight your exhaustion, because you will not know I have created it to speed your surrender."

"I'm not stupid," Sarah gasped through the pain. "Whether I remember these dreams or not, I'll figure out that you're behind it. I'll figure out that I was asleep all night but feel like I wasn't, and put the pieces together."

Jareth smirked. "We'll see," he said. Then he released her hair and her arms, and stepped away from her as she fell to the ground. To her relief, she'd managed to land on her feet, and though she wobbled unsteadily for a moment, she remained standing.

"Sadly, it seems you didn't wish to sleep long," he noted. "You've set an alarm. But you'll be back tonight. And tomorrow night... why, that will be the weekend, won't it? I bet you'll be so tired you won't even set an alarm, hoping to sleep in a bit, catch up on all the lost sleep..."

Sarah shook her head frantically.

"Usually I keep you here for about five or six hours. How long do you think I could keep you here on a Friday night, when all you want to do is sleep? When you have nowhere to be on Saturday morning? Eleven hours? Twelve? ...Longer?"

"I won't, I won't, I'll figure it out, I'll remember..."

But even Sarah knew that she was trying to convince herself more than she was standing up to him.

She closed her eyes, and tried so hard to hold onto the memories of the past hour, unpleasant as they were, because the thought of losing them completely was even more unpleasant.

"I'll remember..."

–

Sarah woke to the blaring of her clock alarm. She turned it off, and sat up, reluctantly.

Well, she was still damned tired, but at least waking up to an alarm meant that she must have fallen asleep at _some_ point, though she couldn't quite remember when. She was pretty sure she'd just been lying in bed awake for most of the hour she'd meant to nap. And she must have had another nightmare; the details escaped her, but she had the same shivery feeling she'd had the last few nights, a lingering fear both powerful yet elusive.

She contemplated going back to sleep for another hour; that nap didn't seem to have refreshed her at all. She'd probably have another nightmare, but still, sleep was sleep.

Sarah shook her head. No, she had one more lead to follow before she had to consider more drastic measures of getting information, and she'd been putting it off long enough.

She'd been reluctant to make this next move for several reasons: because a part of her was ashamed that she'd gotten herself into this situation at all, because she didn't want to get him involved, because she never knew when Jareth might be watching. But even though it was risky- and the risk was not only to herself- he was by far the most likely source for some accurate answers.

So she stood up and went to her vanity. She seated herself in the chair and took a few deep breaths before speaking.

"Hoggle," she said. "I need you."

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*I got the idea for the unknown name, that no matter how many times someone tells it to a mortal, the person forgets it, from Neil Gaiman's amazing masterpiece _American Gods_. There was a god who lived in Las Vegas for whom that was the case but, of course, the book never actually gives his name.

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A/N: Please review, good or bad!


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